The guilty world appalling,

Then shalt with joy thou lift thine eyes

And see Him coming in the skies,

While suns and stars are falling.

While for His coming thou dost yearn,

Forget not why His last return

The Savior is delaying,

And ask Him not before His hour

To shake the heavens with His power,

Nor judge the lost and straying.

O saints of God, for Sodom pray

Until your prayers no more can stay

The judgment day impending.

Then cries the Lord: “Behold, I come!”

And ye shall answer: “To Thy home

We are with joy ascending!”

Then loud and clear the trumpet calls,

The dead awake, death’s kingdom falls,

And God’s elect assemble.

The Lord ascends the judgment throne,

And calls His ransomed for His own,

While hearts in gladness tremble.

Grundtvig is often called the Singer of Pentecost. And his hymns on the nature

and work of the Spirit do rank with his very best. He believed in the reality of the Spirit as the living, active agent of Christ in His church. As the church came into being by the outpouring of the Holy Ghost on the day of Pentecost, so our

Lord still builds and sanctifies it by the Spirit, working through His words and sacraments. His numerous hymns on the Spirit are drawn from many sources, both ancient and modern. His treatment of the originals is so free, however, that it is difficult in most cases to know whether his versions should be accepted as adaptations or originals. Of mere translations there are none. The following version of the widely known hymn, “Veni Sancte Spiritus,” may serve to illustrate his work as a transplanter of hymns.

Holy Spirit, come with light,

Break the dark and gloomy night

With Thy day unending.

Help us with a joyful lay

Greet the Lord’s triumphant day

Now with might ascending.

Comforter so wondrous kind,

Noble guest of heart and mind

Fix in us Thy dwelling.

Give us peace in storm and strife,

Fill each troubled heart and life

With Thy joy excelling.

Make salvation clear to us,

Who despite our sin and dross

Would exalt the Spirit.

For without Thine aid and love

All our life and work must prove

Vain and without merit.

Raise or bow us with Thine arm,

Break temptation’s evil charm,

Clear our clouded vision.

Fill our hearts with longing new,

Cleanse us with Thy morning dew,

Tears of deep contrition.

Blessed Fount of life and breath,